Father and Son
by Queen Eli
Summary: When Ladd Russo finds himself the guardian of eight year old Graham Spector, he expects the change to only be temporary. However, he starts to become attached to the boy, and as more and more information from Graham's life finally come to the surface, and a man claiming to be his uncle returns, he vows to never let the boy slip away, no matter what he has to do.
1. The Boy in the Bushes

**Father and Son** [Baccano! AU]

Summary: As an immortal hitman and an all-around madman, Ladd Russo isn't exactly cut out for fatherhood. However, he finds himself the legal guardian of eight year old Graham Spector after a terrible incident leaves him with no memories of his past and only his name, age, and a giant monkey wrench. Despite his warnings of him only being a temporary guardian, Ladd soon finds himself drawn to the boy. However, when a man claiming to be Graham's uncle appears, and more and more information about the boy's past resurfaces, Ladd is soon faced with the prospect of losing the boy forever. He vows, however, never to let that happen, at any cost.

Chapter One

The Boy in the Bushes

Ladd Russo lived alone, and that was how he liked it. There was no one to bother him, no one to cause trouble, no one to make him do things around the house. Since he lived alone, he could let the dishes pile up in the sink, only wash his clothes when he had one outfit left, and only take the trash out when the bags piled up around the trashcan. Honestly, he was much happier now that he lived without his Uncle in close proximity, and without any kind of significant other to worry about. He reveled in his solitude, embraced his loneliness, and explored his newfound bachelorhood with gusto. His days of being alone were about to come to an abrupt and unfortunate end, however, much like how most of his victims' lives did.

When he stepped outside of his apartment building and stood on the sidewalk in front, Ladd didn't find anything peculiar or out of place at first. His eyes then traveled over to the bushes, where the loud rustling and screeching of a large vulture came to his ears. Annoyed at the scavenger's audacity and noisiness, he went to shoo it away. As it squawked again and took off in a flurry of black feathers, he saw what the vulture had been so interested in, and at first he found himself recoiling away from it, but then inexplicably drawn in.

Lying there, curled up in the bushes was a boy no older than ten, his body curled tightly around a rusted, oversized monkey wrench. He had long, slightly wavy blonde hair, and was wearing what appeared to be some kind of white pajamas, stained with dirt and grass. He was so still that Ladd thought he was dead at first, until the shallow rise and fall of the boy's chest told him that he was alive.

Now that he was faced with this strangely delicate situation, Ladd wasn't sure what to do exactly. There wasn't anyone around who looked as though they could be the boy's parents, so his first thought was that he was a runaway, and he should take him up to the police station. There hadn't been any reports of missing children for a while though, and the pictures they'd shown didn't match the boy. He figured that, at this point, he'd take the boy to the hospital and let them figure out what to do with him.

After he took the boy and his wrench to the hospital, Ladd wanted to leave right away, but the doctor kept him there to ask him about the boy.

"There's no question then, this is the missing boy from the family that was killed two days ago," the doctor, whose name was Maiza Avaro told him.

"A family was killed?" Ladd asked. There was no shock in his voice, only curiosity, as to be expected by a man such as himself.

"Yes, about twenty miles from here. No one knew about the boy, though, except for a few investigators. I have a close friend on the team who was able to tell me about this boy."

"So what're you gonna do with him?" Ladd asked, glancing over at the sleeping boy. He'd been severely dehydrated, so there were a few tubes in his arms, but otherwise it looked as though he'd simply decided to take a nap there.

"Probably keep him here until he'd fed and hydrated. An investigator will probably talk to him. Then, if no one wants to keep him, he'll go to the orphanage." Maiza's voice almost held a hint of a question, and Ladd frowned.

"Are you tryin' to get me to take care of the kid?" He asked, and although Maiza didn't say anything, his silence was enough. "No, no way, I don't like kids, count me out." Ladd crossed his arms and turned his head as though he was rejecting any further offers, but Maiza was persistent.

"Just until the investigation is over, I'm sure someone will want to take him permanently once the case gets out. He'll be in and out of your place in a few months." Ladd sighed heavily, his fingers tapping lightly on the side of his arm. "I just don't want to see this poor boy go to an orphanage. I'd take him, but I'm afraid my line of work doesn't allow for much time to care for him."

"Just for a few months, right?" Ladd asked, turning his head to look at Maiza. "Just until the case gets out and somebody takes him?" Maiza nodded, and Ladd put one hand on his head. "Alright, I'll do it. But I'm not keeping him for any more than four months." He spoke almost as though the boy was a stray dog that someone was trying to get him to take. Internally, the hit man was yelling at himself. He'd gotten too soft, he told himself, too human. It had been almost a year since his uncle had called on him to do anything. Ever since the incident aboard the train when he'd almost gotten himself killed, his uncle had been reluctant to call upon him. It pissed him off, but he had to lie low. Since he'd become immortal, he didn't take to killing mortals anymore, and he was only needed when someone who was an immortal started causing trouble.

Lost in his own thoughts, Ladd almost didn't notice as the boy stirred in his bed. As the boy blinked his wide, dark blue eyes, Maiza slipped into the room to talk to him. Figuring that he had to at least try to figure out what he was in for, Ladd stepped in after him, shutting the heavy wooden door.

"Where am I? Who are you?" The boy asked the doctor, pulling the thin hospital bed sheets up to his chest.

"You're in a hospital, I'm your doctor, Maiza Avaro." The boy relaxed a bit, now tucking his knees up to his chest and holding them there. "What's your name, son?"

"Graham Spector, eight years old," the boy recited, as though he was speaking from a script. "How did I get here? Where's my wrench?" Graham looked around frantically, as though looking for the tool. Setting one hand on the boy's tiny shoulder, Maiza pulled the discarded wrench from under the bed and gave it to him. Graham's eyes lit up and he clutched the wrench tightly as if it were the last thing he had. It crossed Ladd's mind that perhaps it was the last thing he had left, if he really was the missing boy from the family who was killed.

"You were found outside of an apartment building," Maiza told him, and Graham pulled the wrench closer. "Do you know how you got there, Graham?"

"I was running," he answered, his voice lowering. "For a long time. I was tired, so I curled up in the bushes like a cat. They're always safe there, I thought I'd be safe too."

"What were you running from?" Maiza asked again, his expression darkening.

"The bad man, the bad man who killed them," Graham whispered. "My mama, my papa, my sister…the bad man killed them all. And that's all I know."

"Do you know what the bad man looked like?"

"No, no, I don't know! That's all I know, I don't know anything else, nothing!" He wasn't yelling, but it was quite obvious that the boy was I quite a bit of distress. It was obvious now, at least to Ladd, that something truly terrifying had happened to the little boy. Something so bad that it caused him to lose most, if not all of his memories. "So what's gonna happen to me? Am I gonna go to jail?"

"Oh, no, of course not," Maiza laughed, patting the boy's head. "You'll be staying with someone temporarily until we can find someone to take you permanently." The boy was quiet, and Ladd could see that the weight of what had happened was now pressing down on the boy's shoulders. His eyes filled with tears, and Graham pressed his palms to his eyes as his tiny body shook.

"I-I just wanna go home," he whimpered, and then Ladd found himself by the boy's side, leaning against the hospital bed.

"Hey, if you're gonna stay with me, kid, then there's no cryin' allowed, alright?" He said, and Graham looked up at him, dark blue eyes still shimmering with unshod tears. He looked at Ladd as though he'd just brought him the moon, and Ladd knew instantly that this kid really liked him. It was a shame, really, and Ladd shuffled his feet a bit. "No cryin' until I tell you to."

"Oh, yes sir," Graham answered obediently, and Ladd swore he could see Maiza smile as he left the room.

Ladd had no idea what he'd gotten into, but he had a feeling that he'd regret it soon.


	2. A Visit and a Promise

Chapter Two

A Visit and a Promise

Graham being a child didn't bother Ladd. It didn't bother him when he discovered a picky eater. It didn't bother him when he used the wrench to dismantle the hospital bed. There was only one thing, he found after he took the boy home from the hospital, that bothered Ladd: He would not stop talking. He talked endlessly about anything and everything, and it made the two-mile walk from the hospital to the apartment feel like two hundred miles.

"Listen, kid—" Ladd started to say, and Graham interjected;

"Graham!"

"Alright, Graham, listen, do you ever shut up?" He asked, and the boy thought for a moment.

"No, sir, it's just that there's so much to see and learn and remember, I get overwhelmed!" The boy's intelligence and vocabulary did impress Ladd, but at the same time, it annoyed the hell out of him. "So I talk and the more I talk the better I feel 'cause then it sticks with me an—" His words were muffled when Ladd suddenly put the palms of his hands over Graham's mouth to quiet him.

"No more talking until we get home, alright?" Ladd growled warningly, and only when Graham nodded in agreement did he remove his hands from his mouth. Thankfully, they walked in silence for the rest of the journey, with only the sounds of the city around them. Graham was wide-eyed the whole way, and Ladd couldn't blame him. For someone who had never been to (or, at least, had no memory of going to) a city, this must be utterly overwhelming and exciting.

When they finally arrived back at Ladd's apartment, Graham immediately busied himself with running about and looking at every inch of the place.

"So this is your place? Cool!" He exclaimed, jumping on the couch excitedly. "When did you move in? How big is it? Where's my room? What's for dinner? Can I—"

"Stop with all the questions," Ladd groaned, pressing his hands to his temples. "Please."

"Whoa," Graham suddenly murmured, jumping off the couch and running over to him. "Your arm is metal."

It was true. After the train incident a few years back, Ladd had lost his left arm and had it replaced with a metal one. Ladd slowly lowered it so Graham could get a better look, curling and uncurling his fingers with a metallic "click" sound.

"Yeah, took ya' long enough to figure it out, eh?" Ladd grinned as Graham's fingers skimmed the smooth silver surface.

"Can I take it apart?" He looked at Ladd with pleading eyes, and Ladd frowned.

"Absolutely not, ya' little nutjob," Ladd replied, pulling away and heading off down the hallway. "Now, I'm goin' to bed. You can go anywhere in this house, 'cept my room, and don't use the stove or go outside, alright? If anyone knocks, don't let 'em in, tell me and I'll do it." Graham nodded obediently, and Ladd was glad that he would do anything he asked him (or so it seemed).

Unbeknownst to him, this would be the last time that Ladd slept alone.

* * *

Not long after that, there was a knock at his door. Ladd groaned in response, pulling up the blankets and shivering at the air that hit his bare shoulders.

"There's a lady at the door, says she's a part of the New York Police Department," Graham's voice called from behind the door. "Can I let her in?"

"Wait," Ladd muttered, pushing the blankets off of him and carefully maneuvering around all of the junk on his floor. He then opened the door to see Graham looking up at him, his wrench swinging from one hand.

"Do you want me to hit her?" Graham asked, and Ladd sighed.

"No, I don't want you to hit her," Ladd replied, moving to open the front door. "And put that thing away, the only one who needs to know you're a nutjob is me." Ladd then opened the front door to view a woman dressed in a professional-looking woman's suit and carrying a briefcase. She had long, silver-white hair and blue-violet eyes that looked up into Ladd's coldly and held no traces of fear.

"You must be Mister Russo? I'm Sylvie Lumiere, I'll be handling the treatment of Graham Spector," she stated, then proceeded to sidestep him and walk into the apartment like she owned it.

"From the police department, huh? If I'dve known it was someone important, I might've put a shirt on first," Ladd laughed, sarcasm and annoyance lacing his words. Had this been happening a few years back, Ladd probably would have killed this lady on the spot. Graham peeked out of the kitchen for a second, and once he noticed Sylvie, went right back to hiding. "You said he needed treatment? What kind of treatment?" Ladd sat heavily on the couch, watching as Sylvie sat in a nearby chair.

"Yes, treatment. The boy's lost his family, he'll need counseling. Once he's been cleared, he'll be starting school, of course. Don't worry, we'll be sure to cover any expenses, but that's not what I'm here for today. I'm going to see if Graham can remember anything else and get a bit of information about where he's living now." Ladd groaned inwardly, rubbing at his temples again. Maiza certainly didn't tell him about any of this. "So where is the boy?"

"Graham!" Ladd called, and the boy tentatively peeked out from his hiding place, looking at them with wide doe eyes. He made his way over to the couch, then crawled into Ladd's lap and buried his face in his chest. Ladd had the urge to push him away, but it was soon overcome by a bigger, sudden urge to hold him there. The boy was shaking slightly, and Ladd gently rubbed his back to calm him. This didn't go unnoticed by Sylvie, whose eyes adopted a slight look of curiosity.

"Hello Graham," she greeted, and Graham turned to look at her, his eyes still wide. His grip around Ladd tightened, and Ladd could tell that he didn't trust this woman. He couldn't exactly blame the boy for that, either; he had just lost all of his memories, except for his family being killed, so how did he know that this woman wasn't involved? Or that she didn't want to hurt him? Feeling the sudden overwhelming urge to protect him, Ladd moved a bit so that they'd both be more comfortable. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, I heard you, I'm not deaf," he protested. His voice was strong, but he didn't stop shaking. "I don't wanna counselor. I don't wanna talk to one and I don't wanna talk to you." He certainly was a stubborn kid, and with that he turned his head back to Ladd and buried his face in his chest again. Sylvie gave a heavy sigh and stood up, looking over at the two of them.

"I'll probably be back in the next few days to further discuss our plan of action," she told Ladd, before walking to the door. "I'll be sure to call before I come next time. Goodbye, Mister Russo." With that, she was gone just as quickly as she had came, and Ladd didn't know whether to be confused or grateful. For now, he decided to be grateful.

"I don't wanna go to a counselor," Graham whimpered, and he finally climbed from Ladd's lap and sat on the couch. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes, and Ladd realized that it was nearing nine o' clock, probably past whatever bedtime the boy had. They had run around a lot that day, and Ladd had no doubt that Graham had busied himself while Ladd was sleeping, so he stood up.

"Alright, bedtime kid. C'mon," he muttered, walking down the hallway and turning to the spare bedroom across the hallway from his. Graham followed (slowly for once) and shuffled into the small room, jumping into the bed. Ladd had put the suitcase full of clothes that Maiza had gotten for him by the bed, but Graham ignored it as he cuddled into the blankets, apparently too tired to bother changing.

"Goodnight, Ladd," Graham yawned as he closed his eyes, and Ladd huffed, a mix between a laugh and a sigh, before he turned off the lights.

"Goodnight, ya' little nutjob."

* * *

Ladd turned in for good not long after that. At around one o' clock, however, there was a timid knock at the door that woke him, and Ladd sat up.

"What?" He snapped when the door opened, but he stopped with any further protests when he saw the look on Graham's face. He'd been crying, that much was obvious, and he was shaking. His hair was wet and tangled, and he rubbed at his eyes.

"I had a nightmare," he murmured. "And I wet the sheets." Ladd gave a heavy sigh and stretched a bit, leaning back against the headrest.

"Did you change?"

"Yeah."

"You showered first, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Took the sheets off?"

"Yeah." The boy looked down at his feet in shame, but honestly, it was almost something Ladd expected. Nightmares and bed wetting was really the least of his worries for a boy who had watched his family be slaughtered. They were both quiet for a moment, before Graham asked softer than before;

"Can I sleep with you?" The look in his eyes was hard to ignore, and Ladd wanted to say no, but he gave in.

"Yeah, come here." Graham stepped in and shut the door, casting them both in darkness. He managed to stumble through the assortment of things on Ladd's floor, somehow without hurting himself, and he crawled into bed beside the man, cuddling up into his side under the blankets. Ladd gave another heavy sigh as he laid back down, turning to face him. "But you go to sleep, alright? And don't wake me up in the morning unless somebody's dyin' or the house is on fire, alright?" He felt Graham nod, and he was quiet for a bit, before he said again;

"Ladd? You won't let the bad man come to get me, right?"

Ladd was quiet for a moment, resting one hand on the boy's side. He figured that was what the nightmare was about. "'Course not."

"You'll protect me forever and ever?"

"Yeah, as long as you're not annoying me forever and ever." Ladd had no intentions of keeping Graham around "forever and ever", but he'd say anything to be able to get back to sleep.

"Promise?"

"Promise. Is that it?"

"Uh-huh. Goodnight, Ladd," Graham murmured. After a few minutes, he was completely silent and still, the only sounds coming from his gentle even breathing.

'_Protect me from the bad man. Forever and ever._' Ladd felt his lips curl up into a smile. Who the hell did he think he was kidding? He was only good at one thing, and that was killing people. Protecting someone would be way out of his league.

At least, that's what he thought.


End file.
